PARALLELS
by Patcat
Summary: Spoilers for IDENTITY CRISIS


Yes, I know I need to move on with SONS. And I have another story following up on PLAYING DEAD in the works. But this plot bunny wouldn't be denied.

Disclaimer: Standard

PARALLELS

(A follow up to and spoilers for IDENTITY CRISIS)

Alex cautiously entered the interrogation room. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark light. Many detectives wanted the lights as bright as possible in the room in order to give the subject the sense he or she was completely exposed. Bobby did that occasionally, but he often preferred a dark room. "It can make the person think I know something they don't," he explained to Alex. "Or make them too comfortable."

"Or let you hide," Alex said.

Bobby smiled and nodded.

She approached him carefully. The uniforms had taken away a meek and troubled Tom Burress, but Bobby continued to sit motionless at the table.

"You ok?" she asked.

Bobby stood carefully and slowly. "Ok…Would be an exaggeration…But…I'm all right…" He gathered the photos and files from the table and placed them in his binder. "Let's go deal with the paperwork."

Alex followed him to their desks. His stoic silence worried her, as it had throughout this case. She knew enough about his life to know that this tragedy of two brothers and a schizophrenic mother cut very close to Bobby, and at several points she thought she saw slashes reaching to his bones. She quietly and cautiously let him know she was willing to talk to him. To her surprise, he considered her offer before responding. "I…I appreciate it, Eames…I do…But the truth is I just don't want to talk about it…But if you think I'm slipping…That I'm making mistakes…Call me on them…Please…"

She never felt the need to call him on anything during the case. He was quieter than usual and let her take the lead with nearly every witness, but in recent months it'd been hard to tell what was usual for both of them. He was quiet and steady and brilliant, and all the while Alex wondered how much pain he was in.

He maintained his silence as they processed the paperwork. Alex considered several options on reaching out to him as she worked and tried to keep a discrete eye on him. By the time Ross approached their desks, they were nearly done with the paperwork.

"Good job, Detectives," he said. "I think that confession will stick."

"We offered him a lawyer several times," Alex said. "And he wouldn't take it."

"He won't fight it," Bobby said softly. "He knows he killed his brother for no good reason. And all of his secrets have been exposed. I…I requested that he be placed on a suicide watch at Ryker's. I don't think he'll kill himself. But a watch isn't a bad idea."

Ross nodded. "I'll follow that up. My only concern would be if that helped an insanity plea."

Bobby shook his head. "I don't think he'll try that. I think he wants to take responsibility for what happened. He just didn't want to go back to his old life. He may think prison will be better than that."

"Well, his "wife" is grateful everything was cleared up so quickly and quietly. That's made the Brass happy, and now that they're happy for a couple of seconds, I'm grateful." The Captain smiled at Bobby and Alex. "Mr. Buress may discover that prison isn't such a wonderful place."

"I don't know," Bobby said softly. "Considering where he came from." He returned to concentrate on his work as Ross and Alex shared a look.

As they continued with their work, Bobby remained eerily silent, aside from the moments when he asked Alex for a form or handed one to her. His silence unnerved her, and Alex desperately tried to find some way of reaching out to him. She stood at one point to make a copy, and as she passed by Bobby, she that his hands, briefly paused over his keyboard, shook. Her heart in her throat, Alex moved to the copy machine.

"It could be he just had too much caffeine…which he has," she thought. "It could be he hasn't had enough food or sleep…which he hasn't. " She gathered the copies. "But you know those aren't the reasons…At least not the main ones…"

Ross, wearing his overcoat and carrying his briefcase, arrived at Bobby's desk just as Alex did.

"I'm going home," he said. "And both of you should too."

Alex started to shut down her computer, but Bobby continued to stare at his screen.

"I said," Ross said gently as he leaned over Bobby's desk. "You should go home…Both of you…Don't make me make this an order…"

Bobby blinked and looked up. "Uh…I…I can finish up the paperwork, Captain…"

"Which will need Alex's signature as well. And the two of you can finish pretty quickly tomorrow," Ross said calmly. "You did terrific work on this case, Goren, especially your interrogation of Burress. Now…Go home…Get some rest…You more than deserve it…"

Bobby reluctantly began shutting down his computer. "Yes, Sir…"

"Alex…I'm putting you in charge of making sure Goren gets out of here," Ross said with a smile. "And you can get anyone in Major Case to help you."

"You heard the man," Alex said. "Let's get a move on, Goren."

Ross smiled and walked out of Major Case.

"Uh…" Bobby sat for a moment. "The…the truth is…I really…I don't want to go home…I…"

Alex studied him. "Ok, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

Bobby stood, lifted Alex's coat from the rack, and handed it to her. "Uh…I…I'm not sure…"

"C'mon," Alex said. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. And I know you've had less food than me in the past few hours."

She was walking out of the squad room, and Bobby, out of habit or just too tired to resist, followed her. "I…uh…I'm not very hungry…"

"You can keep me company," Alex replied. She punched the elevator button.

"I…I won't be very good company tonight," Bobby said. He stared at the flashing lights.

"I think you're underestimating yourself," Alex said gently.

The elevator door opened, and Alex and Bobby joined the small group inside it. They were silent on the trip down. Bobby had taken the subway to work, and he tried to escape when the car reached the first floor.

"Please," Alex said. "Walk me to my car."

Bobby hesitated. He sensed Alex was trying to keep him from being alone, but he couldn't deny her request. And a large part of him didn't want to be alone and especially wanted to be with her.

"Sure," he said, and stepped back into the elevator. He quietly followed her to her car. He wasn't sure quite how it happened, but he found himself in her front passenger seat with her driving him home.

"I bet," she said cheerfully. "That you don't have anything edible in your place."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "You know that's a safe bet. Uh…You don't have to…"

"C'mon, Bobby…I'm hungry…I want some company…And I'm buying…" She smiled at him.

"Ok," Bobby thought. "The sooner I agree, the sooner she'll leave me alone…"

"All right," he said out loud. "Anywhere you want…"

To his surprise, Alex parked near one of his favorite spots, a coffee shop whose owner used it as much as a tax write-off as a business enterprise. It wasn't that the coffee and food weren't good as it was that the service and availability of everything on the menu were erratic. Bobby liked it because it was quiet and dark and full of tables hidden behind corners. He frequently came to the place to bury himself and read a book or study files. Alex wasn't particularly fond of the place for the very reasons that Bobby liked it.

"We…we don't have to come here," Bobby stammered as they approached the door.

"They have a good chicken salad sandwich," Alex replied. "And I'm in the mood for a quiet place. And you told me the soups are good."

"She knows how to do this," Bobby thought as they entered the restaurant. "She knows how to get around all your defenses…I'm not sure I care anymore…I'm not sure I want to keep any of them up…"

With her encouragement, he managed to get a few spoonfuls of soup and bites of sandwich into his mouth. He tried to follow and make contributions to the conversation, but his mind, just as it had throughout the case, veered into the past.

"This case was hard for you," Alex stated gently after she took the last bite of her sandwich.

Bobby lifted his spoon in and out of the soup. "Yea," he finally admitted. "It…It wasn't easy for anyone, though…I think Ross…When he saw the interview tapes of those boys…He saw his own sons…"

"And you saw yourself and Frank," Alex said.

"It…It wasn't like that…I mean…not completely…"

"But there were parallels," Alex said.

Bobby glanced up at her, but he couldn't look her in the eyes. "Yea…" He stared at his hands, which were trembling.

Alex reached across the table and tenderly wrapped her small, soft hands around his large ones. "I think we should get you home." She didn't wait for the check, but dropped several bills on the table and stood. "C'mon…The car's parked in a safe place and it's not far from your place. I'll walk you home."

He was tired and confused and couldn't think of any way to escape from her, and a very large part of him didn't want to escape.

As they walked to his apartment, Alex considered Bobby's behavior. So far, he'd offered remarkably little resistance to her attempts to reach out to him. "He must be in really bad shape," she thought. "I hope he'll let me help him…I hope I can help him…"

They reached his building. Bobby fumbled with his binder as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. Alex tried to think of the best way to get into his apartment. She'd decided on the "I-need-to-use-the-bathroom" ploy when Bobby spoke.

"Uh…Would you like to come up?" He stared at the door as he spoke. "I don't know what I have to offer you, but you're welcome…"

Alex managed to hide her happy surprise. "Yea…Yea I would…"

The ride up to Bobby's apartment was very quiet. Bobby hugged the wall across from Alex and stared at the floor. Alex couldn't think of anything to say to Bobby. She'd read the Child Protective Services' report on Tom and Anthony. It was bad enough to read about such terrible things happening to any child; the thought that Bobby had suffered anything similar to it sickened and horrified Alex.

"How bad was it for him?" she wondered. "Did it make him stronger? Is it why he's been able to bear everything that's happened to him? Or did it make it easier to break him?"

The elevator stopped on Bobby's floor. He waited for her to step from the car. She did, but looked over her shoulder to make sure he was behind her. He smiled sadly.

"I'm not running now," he said as he stepped past her to unlock his door. "Like I said, it's clean…"

Alex felt strangely uncomfortable in Bobby's apartment. She hadn't been a frequent visitor to it, making only brief stops for Bobby to change his clothes or grab a book or file, but the rooms always vibrated with his energy. The apartment now seemed empty and lonely. Alex realized that several bookshelves were missing, and the remaining ones appeared to have empty spaces.

"I…I've been trying to simplify things," Bobby said, following her gaze. "I realized I couldn't read every book in the world, let alone own them." He waved a large paw.

"Bobby…You didn't have to sell…" Alex quickly shut her mouth. The last thing she wanted to do was to embarrass Bobby about his financial state.

"No…No…It wasn't like that." Bobby wasn't angry. "I gave them to different places and organizations…Schools…Places that send books to Third World Countries…I used the one year rule…If I hadn't read it or missed it or used it in a year, I gave it away…There were some that mean too much that I kept…But others…It just didn't make sense…"

"Was it hard to give them up?" Alex knew that Bobby loved books the way some men loved wine or beer or golf or even women.

"Yea," he admitted. "But knowing they'd be read and maybe loved…Or at least help fund good things…That helped."

Alex saw a small sea shell on one of the empty shelves. "Oh," she said. "Is that…"

"Yea." Bobby half smiled. "From the day I went with you and Nate to the beach. That…I needed that day. I'd had a lot of bad days, and that was a good day." His hand hovered over the pink and blue shell.

Alex took a deep breath. "Nate said something when he got home from the beach…"

Bobby's hand gently touched the shell.

"He wondered why…why you kept your T-shirt on even when you went into the water…"

Bobby picked up the shell.

"And he said…" Alex steeled herself for Bobby's reaction. "That when you changed your shirt later…In the guys' locker room…He said he saw scars on your back…"

She waited for the explosion. Bobby only turned the shell over and over in his hand. His silence was worse in some ways than an explosion.

"He…He wasn't scared, was he?" Bobby finally asked.

"No," Alex said. "Just worried…and…and curious. He was afraid you'd been hurt. You're one of his favorite people, and he doesn't like his favorite people to get hurt…"

"I…I'm glad he wasn't scared," Bobby said. His thumb moved back and forth over the smooth shell. "I…Nate's one of my favorite people…I'd never want to hurt or scare him…" Bobby stared at the shell. "He…He didn't ask me…"

"He asked me," Alex said. "And I told him I didn't know where they came from…He said he didn't want to ask you because he was afraid he'd upset you."

"He…He's a perceptive kid…"

"I realized I'd never seen you without a shirt," Alex said. "Not a requirement between partners…but…Those times at my sister's place with the pool…When we've been at the gym together…"

Bobby turned to the sliding glass door that led to a tiny balcony and stared out at the city. Alex felt their lives hang in the silence.

"It…it wasn't that bad." His voice startled her. "Not like what Tom and Anthony went through…And…And it wasn't my Mom…At least not the physical stuff…She never…At least I don't remember…" He rubbed the back of his neck and shivered.

"Oh, God," Alex thought. "I shouldn't have pushed him…"

She cautiously stepped closer to him. "Bobby…If this is too much for you…"

"I…I don't remember…Frank…Frank helping me…Protecting me…He said that he did…But I don't remember…All I remember is that he was gone…Even when we were kids…Little kids…He was gone…With the man I thought was my father…"

Alex stepped closer to him. Bobby shook now, and he held his fist in front of his mouth.

"Oh, God," Alex thought. "What am I doing to him?"

"It wasn't my Mom," Bobby said. "She didn't hit me…It…It was him…He…He either ignored me…or…or…" Bobby swallowed. "I never knew why…I tried to stay out of his way…But sometimes I couldn't…And sometimes…He'd come for me. Mom…Mom tried to protect me. But she was sick and small and he was so much bigger…And Frank…Frank was gone…or…or..." Bobby tightly shut his eyes as if he could will away the memory. "Sometimes Frank would tell him where I was…And…And when he found me…It was usually his belt…Sometimes a stick…And then. He got this whip from one of his horse racing buddies. It was the worse…I don't think it was even legal to use it on a horse…That…That's what made…" Bobby gulped for air.

"Didn't anyone…" Alex was inches from him.

"I…I told people I fell through a window…Over the years I added all kinds of stuff…Details…By the time I got in the Army, I almost believed them myself…" Bobby shook very badly now. "But…But I always remembered the truth…At least…I know why now…He treated me…" Bobby smiled bitterly. "He probably suspected…Maybe knew…I wasn't his…"

Alex stood directly behind him. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold and comfort the hurt little boy inside him. "Did it stop?" she asked.

"I didn't see much of him after the divorce," Bobby said. "And when I did, Frank was usually around and taking up his attention or there were other people around. But…One time…The last time…I was staying with Lewis' family…God…They saved me so many times…My Mom was really sick and in the hospital…But he was still listed as the adult to contact…The school called him because I'd won this award and they were thinking about putting me in some advanced class…They didn't talk to me or I would've told them not to contact him…" Bobby swallowed again. Alex wondered if he knew she was there. "When he showed up at the school…I think he thought I was in some kind of trouble…I think he would've been happier if I was…He was very charming to the people in the office…Told them he wanted to take me to lunch to show how proud he was of me…And…Even I believed him…I hoped…wanted to believe…He was proud of me…" Bobby shook his head. "But when we got in the car…Don't know where he got the car…He kept muttering about how I was a stupid kid who thought he knew more than his old man…How I wasn't as good as Frank…Frank was a real man…I was a momma's boy…Who just read books…That everything was fine until I came along…I slipped down further and further in the passenger seat…I hoped he'd get over it. He turned into this alley and slammed on the brakes. The next thing I knew, he'd yanked me out of the car. He ripped my jacket off…Ruined the jacket…I don't know where the whip came from…He just started hitting me with it…I…I wasn't very big…Tall, but real skinny…I was weak…I couldn't fight him…I just curled up in a ball…He hit me and hit me and hit me…My shirt was in shreds…He yelled at me, but there was so much pain, I couldn't understand him. .." As he spoke, Bobby shook more violently.

"Oh, Bobby," Alex said. "I'm so sorry…" She started to reach for him, but Bobby jerked away.

"He…He finally stopped hitting me…My…My back was wet…It hurt, but the endorphins or something had kicked in, and it didn't hurt as much as it had or it would. I looked up, and he was standing over me. He…He was exhausted…and shocked…He grabbed what was left of my jacket…He threw it on me and yanked me to my feet…He dragged me to the car and made me lay on my stomach…He told me to not get any blood on the car…He took me to some quack he knew…The guy didn't ask any questions…He gave me some kind of painkillers and stitched up the worst of it and told me to watch for infection…And that's when I started hiding it…" Bobby laughed bitterly. "He was so worried about that car…" The laugh grew louder and wilder, and everything about it frightened Alex.

"Bobby…Please…Don't…Calm down…"

It was too late. The terrible laughter gave way to strange, anguished cries. Bobby struggled for a moment, and then, as if he were a puppet whose strings were suddenly cut, he collapsed on the floor. He shook and sobbed, and Alex froze. She recovered and seized the throw on the back of the couch and placed it over Bobby's shoulders.

"Bobby…It's all right…It's ok…You're safe. You're in your apartment…I'm here…You're ok…No one can hurt you here…I won't hurt you…" She managed to keep her voice steady and calm as she repeated the words.

It may have been her words, or his exhaustion, or a combination of both, but Bobby's cries and sobs finally eased. "I…I'm sorry…" Alex scarcely heard him. "You…You must be so ashamed of me…"

"Ashamed of you?" Alex ran one of her hands through his curls. "Of course I'm not ashamed of you…You're a good, strong, gentle man who's survived and overcome a lot. Why would anyone be ashamed of you?"

Bobby shivered. "You…You shouldn't have to…"

"You're my partner…My friend…I'm proud that you're both…I don't mind this…Remember…You did some things for me people don't usually do for partners…Even for friends…"

"I…I've never told anyone the truth about those scars," Bobby confessed. "I…I know what's going on in my head…If you pretend it didn't happen…If you ignore it…Then it didn't happen…But…"

"It comes back," Alex said softly. "It always comes back." She gently rubbed his back. "Do you think you can get up?"

"Uh…Yea…I think so…"

He needed some help, but he managed to stand. "God," he said. "I'm such a mess."

"Not that big a mess," Alex said.

"I…I'd like to take a shower," Bobby said. "I…I think I'll be ok." He turned to go to the bathroom, but stopped. "You're staying."

"Of course," Alex said, and she felt strangely happy at Bobby's trust in her.

Bobby nodded. "Help yourself to a T-shirt…And I'll put a toothbrush out for you." He shuffled to the bathroom. It was only when his skin was pink from the hot water that he realized he hadn't told Alex where she could sleep. "Oh, God," he thought as he leaned against the tiles. "She's going to think that…" He shook his head. "No…No she won't…She's Alex…She'll understand…"

He finished the shower, slipped on a clean pair of boxers and a T-shirt, found the toothbrush and placed it on the sink, and slipped out to his bedroom. He felt terribly exhausted.

Alex sat up in his bed. She swam in one of his oldest and most worn Army T-shirts, and flipped through the latest issue of the SMITHSONIAN. "Hey," she said warmly. "How you feeling?"

"Tired," he conceded. "Very tired." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh…"

"You're not sleeping on the couch, Bobby," Alex declared. She stood, and Bobby tried not to focus on her finely muscled calves. "And I'm really tired, too, and you've got the biggest bed this side of Gracie Mansion." She strode past him. "And…After all…How many times did you hold me in my bed after…after what happened. I owe you."

Bobby tried to understand how Alex could think that she owed him anything. He sat on his bed and tried to sort and calm his thoughts. He'd finally told someone the truth. After all the years of hiding, of keeping his shirt on during the hottest days, of rushing into showers to be the first or lingering back to be the last, of dressing and undressing in the dark, of telling lies and half-truths, he'd finally told the truth.

Her hair and face shining, Alex emerged from the bathroom. "I hoped you might be asleep."

Bobby stared at his hands. "I was just thinking…All those years…All those psychiatrists and psychologists and counselors…Women…People…You're the first person I ever told the truth."

Alex sat close enough that she could touch him. The only light came from the small lamp on the shelf next to Bobby's bed.

"I'm sorry," he continued. "That's a lot to throw on someone…Especially when…I mean…We're not…I guess I don't know what we are."

"I'm not sure there's a word for what we are," Alex said. She reached for his hand and linked her fingers through his. "And if you don't know what it is, I suspect it doesn't exist."

"I…It's been so long since I looked at it…I don't know what my back looks like any more," Bobby said.

"Nate didn't act like it was that bad," Alex responded.

Bobby stared at their hands. "Ok," he breathed. He slipped his hand away from Alex's and reached for the bottom of his T-shirt. He looked at at Alex, who nodded. Her heart pounded as Bobby pulled the shirt over his head. He shivered, and Alex knew it wasn't just from the cold air.

She studied his back. "It's not that bad," she said thoughtfully. "Certainly not as bad as I expected."

Tension evaporated from Bobby's body.

"I mean…You can tell something happened…But not what…I think you could get by without a shirt on the beach or at the pool and people wouldn't notice…Particularly considering what some people look like in bathing suits…As long as you don't do it in Major Case…"

Bobby shook and tumbled so that his head and shoulders fell in Alex's lap. He didn't cry but held tightly on to her. Her fingers tentatively and tenderly traced the puckered skin on his back.

"Is this ok?" she asked.

"Yea…"

"Here," she said, shifting her body. "Get up in bed and under the covers before you get cold."

He was surprised by how much effort it took for him to swing his legs up and into the bed. Alex carefully pulled the sheet and blanket over him. She propped up her body on several pillows and laid his head just below her breasts. Her fingers continued to create small, warm waves on his skin.

"Ok?" she asked.

"Yes." His voice was muffled against her body. "Thank…Thank you, Alex…I…I'm glad you're here. I'm sorry you have to take care of me…But I'm glad you're here…"

She smiled and turned off the light. "You don't have to apologize," she said. "I'm glad to be here…That you let me be here…"

His grip tightened slightly. "It…It's really not that bad?"

"I don't think you'd attract any attention," Alex answered. "Except maybe from sharp-eyed five-year-olds."

"If Nate…If he still wants to know…Tell him…Tell him a very angry man hurt me…But he can't hurt me any more."

"Is that true? That he can't hurt you any more?"

"Yea," Bobby answered after a moment. "I…It is…At least…He can't hurt as much as he used to…And…And that's because of you, Alex. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Alex said when she could speak. "So…Think you'd like to go to the beach with me and Nate this summer?"

He didn't hesitate. "Yea…I'd like that…I'd like that very much."

He nested in her arms and slept through the night. For the first time in many years, his dreams weren't nightmares about the man he thought was his father, or his mother, or his brother, or Nicole, or the Gages, or Mark Ford Brady, or his time at Tate. His dreams were good, and they were of Alex.

END


End file.
